Expecting Him Read Free

sitting up on my heels with my back arched the way he likes. I stare at the button of his fly, but I worry my lower lip with my teeth instead of reaching for him. Deep down I wish he would just do it himself. Set this in motion. But he won't. He expects me to do it. The shame is mine to be had.
    I reach for him with clumsy fingers and unzip his pants. He shifts his hips enough that I can tug both his jeans and briefs down and expose his turgid prick. He is impossibly hard and thick. It makes my mouth water. He’s even bigger than my husband and that’s saying something. I have been taking mental notes of all the similarities and differences between them.
    "Open your pretty little mouth and get it wet," he says.
    I know can do this. God how I want to do this . I sit up and lean in, keeping my eyes on his. Moaning, I take him into my mouth. I feel the shape and contour of sin in my mouth, salivating on the taste of it. I slide down the length of him and close my eyes. I lick and swirl my tongue back up and around the tip, flattening against the underside and sucking firmly. I’m not looking at him, but I’m listening for the primal sound of his approval or appreciation.
    Even as h ard as he is, and he is oh so very hard , he is quiet. My eyelashes flutter as I give in to curiosity and look up to see him watching me. He laughs as I look away at once. He strokes my hair gently, rubbing my scalp in such a way it makes me purr with my mouth full of cock. I’m in ecstasy serving him. It’s like I’ve arrived at the place I was meant to be. Euphoria doesn’t even begin to describe what I feel in the depths of my depravity.
    I n a sweet but decadent voice laced with callous intentions he breaks me from within when he starts, "When he leaves you…"
    I immediately tense up and try to jerk away from him. His hand is gripping the back of my neck now, holding me down, and successfully quieting my protest before I can voice it. In doing so he’s denying me the sound of it in my ears, not allowing me to defend myself by holding me down to choke on his cock as he continues snidely, "Like I was saying, when he leaves you, I'll take you in, baby."
    He holds me there until I am fighting, scratching, and punching at him, frantic to inhale a greedy breathe of air. Even more desperate to lash out and bruise him, make him hurt like he is hurting me.
    "All three of y ou."
    He chuckles before he lets me up. I cough hard, crying as I suck in deep gasps of air. The smirk on his face makes me appalled by him even more.
    " Shh, now, don't wake my son." He pats my cheek like a petulant child. There is a sadistic gleam in his eyes that rips into my soul .
    I trusted him…
    Tears are still dripping from my eyes as I lift my head to glare up at him and wheeze, "He isn't yours."
    He is staring intently at me. "Oh you,” he chuckles. “…you're not sure, are you?" His rough hand strokes my cheek lovingly. His fingers tangling in my hair, giving it an affectionate tug until I lean into it, savoring the moment of tenderness before I can stop myself.
    I can no longer look him in the eye so I drop my head as I listen to his next words he’s murmuring sympathetically, "Not sure, baby?"
    A tear drops down onto my bared breast that is blossoming with the beginnings of bruises. I try to tell myself I won't dignify the question with a response, and I hear him begin laughing at my stubborn silence.
    Through my hanging curls, I c an see that he is still erect. If anything, he is even more so. He gets off on shaming me. The dark side of me loves it—adores that he’s so thick and stiff that I can see his veins throbbing.
    All for me .
    " Get up and take your jeans off."
    I hesitate. I'd rather he do it, or physically make me do it, and he knows it, just as I know he won't. Once more, he will bask in me proving my disgrace is on the back burner to my need to get fucked by him. Maybe that, in turn, makes me somewhat shameless. My face heats as I dare to look